


Everything They Never Said

by Supernaturalaffliction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas and Dean being completely oblivious, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Major Spoilers, My First Destiel Fanfic, References to eyesex, Season 10 Spoilers, Songfic, Supernatural - Freeform, Swearing, The Heart Wants What It Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernaturalaffliction/pseuds/Supernaturalaffliction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a silent conversation, one that was spoken with their eyes. They could ignore it, because it was in everything they never said out loud. But it’s often said that the eyes are the windows of the heart.</p>
<p>And the eyes have always betrayed the secrets that the lips are too afraid to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything They Never Said

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tardistype221b (TardisType221b)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisType221b/gifts).



> Lyrics in italic.
> 
> The parts where it says Dean: or Cas: is the conversation they’re having with their eyes but not saying out loud. The other parts are just story.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to one of my best friends ever. Happy birthday, Tiffany! You can check out her tumblr here: tardistype221b.tumblr.com and mine is at: supernaturalaffliction.tumblr.com
> 
> I was inspired to write this (which is also my first fanfic! XD) by her absolutely amazing fanvid, which can be watched here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hgjO_bWKnE or here: http://supernaturalaffliction.tumblr.com/post/105017601501/tardistype221b-the-heart-wants-what-it-wants
> 
> This is my first fanfic ever, and I worked really hard on it. I hope you like it!

**Everything They Never Said**  
  
It was a silent conversation, one that was spoken with their eyes. They could ignore it, because it was in everything they never said out loud. But it's often said that the eyes are the windows of the heart.  
  
And the eyes have always betrayed the secrets that the lips are too afraid to let go.  
 

* * *

_What the heart wants_

_What the heart wants_

_What the heart wants_  
  
When it really started was unclear. But it seemed like they had always had silent conversations with their eyes. No matter what they said, their eyes always betrayed them. Maybe that's why it was so hard to lie to each other.  
  
Dean Winchester and Castiel communicated more with their eyes than with a thousand words. Perhaps it was because there was something that both of them knew in the center of their being but couldn't or wouldn't acknowledge it. Cas was an angel. He didn't know what it was. And Dean couldn't find it in him to realize it himself. But nevertheless, everything they sought to hide was laid bare, read as easily as if it were written across a billboard. There were periods of time in which all they did was stare at each other. Nothing needed to be said. But they both pretended that it didn't mean anything, because Cas didn't know, and Dean didn't want to know. But deep down, they both knew the truth about everything they never said.

Dean/Cas: I want you. I want you so bad I can hardly stand it but I can't seem to make my brain accept it.  
  
_You got me sippin' on something I can't compare to nothing I've ever known_  
  
Castiel felt as if he were drinking copious amounts of alcohol. Dozens of shot glasses disappeared down his throat. Now this wasn't necessarily a... _problem,_ per se.... In fact, he could hold his liquor quite well. But being around Dean confused him. He had never experienced so much emotion in his life. He was an angel. He wasn't supposed to be able to experience something so human... and yet, somehow, Dean had brought it out in Castiel.

When he stared into Dean's eyes, he saw something he couldn't quite explain. It was so foreign to him. And he wasn't about to admit that, as an angel, he was experiencing _human_ weaknesses. Besides, he could be imagining it all.  
  
The most frightening part of it was how consumingly addictive it was. Dean Winchester was like a drug, and all Castiel wanted to do was stare into the green depths of his eyes, and read the etchings of his pure yet tortured soul. It made him feel things he couldn't explain, and it both confused and repulsed him greatly.  
  
Cas: Dean, I can't get enough of you. I'm addicted to you like an alcoholic to alcohol. I can't explain it, can't compare it to anything I've ever known and it scares me because _I'm not supposed to be human._

_I'm hoping That after this fever I'll survive_  
  
It became so consuming that Cas actually found himself drinking himself stupid. Dean and Sam had to pull him onto a bed like a regular, utterly stoned and hung-over _human._ Cas wasn't one who prided himself as above humans. Not that he wasn't proud of being an angel. It was just that he didn't _understand._ And as an angel, it was slightly humiliating to think that somehow, he'd been so affected by the human world that he...changed. Became less powerful, less capable.

He just hoped that he could get through it all without falling.  
  
_I know I'm acting a bit crazy_

_Strung out, a little bit hazy_

  
Cas knew he was in trouble when the angels called him. He was getting close. _Too_ close. So he figured, well, he'd just have to be more withdrawn. Authoritative. Formal.

It didn't work.  
  
There was this unexplainable pull he felt toward the human in his charge, like a bug to a lamp. He couldn't seem to distract himself; Dean Winchester was the most inexplicably fascinating creature he'd ever come into contact with.  
  
It was a harmless fascination, and yet so very perilous. Castiel might probably be going crazy.  
  
So he sought to distract himself. The forces of heaven needed him, and he couldn't afford to get sidetracked. He apologized to Dean in his head, but he had more urgent matters to attend to, after all. For some reason, despite himself, something inside him felt that he'd gotten his priorities jumbled up. Not that Castiel would act on a whim. This was bigger than his own strange desires.

Cas: I'm going insane, crazy. I can't do this anymore. I have to estrange myself from you. I'm sorry.  
  
_Hand over heart, I'm praying_

_That I'm gonna make it out alive_  
 

Things were getting desperate. The end of the world was at hand and if Castiel didn't do something soon, then Dean.... he couldn't even finish the thought. It was unthinkable. Dean would be lost to him the _moment_ he realized there was no alternative to saying yes to Michael. And despite everything, Cas couldn't let that happen.

If anyone knew anything, it was his Father. So Castiel prayed, relentlessly, hoping against hope for the tiniest hint of an answer.  
  
In the back of his mind, (the part he was too busy to think about), he questioned his actions, the depth of his panic and desperation. _Why did he care so much?_ Since when had human fate ever mattered to him before? It were these thoughts that he dutifully ignored.

Because it wasn't important _why_ he cared. Right now, it was only important that he did, and because of that, it was imminent that he succeed.

Cas: I'm trying to get closer to my father. If anybody has the answer, he does. I've got to pray, I've got to save us. I've got to... figure out what's going on. And ignore it. And I'm not going to think about how that doesn't make any sense. But I'm also praying that I can pull through.

_The bed's getting cold and you're not here_

_The future that we hold is so unclear_  
 

Castiel's attachment to humanity didn't lessen like he thought it would. Instead, he started _sleeping._

Angels didn't _need_ to sleep. It was an entirely human trait. But he felt so _lonely_ at night, watching the moon and stars sparkle like street signs, directing an angel's passage, and overhearing the dreams of the humans as all their fears and desires slipped from their silent thoughts and reformed into dreams, new realities, as if trying to reach their own heaven.

Usually on these nights, he'd watch Dean sleep, whose face was somehow different than when he was awake—unguarded and peaceful, like a child's—and guard him from possible danger. Dean had more perils threatening his every turn than he even _knew._

But Castiel couldn't allow himself to do that anymore.  
  
His body felt cold.

Cas: When I go to sleep at night, though I'm an angel and I shouldn't, I dream about you. And I feel so lonely. And I can't help but remind myself that you're not what I want, though I know I'm lying to myself. Everything is so unclear. I don't know what will happen to us in the future. I don't mean just after shit goes down, either. I mean, will we be together? I'm finding that I'm beginning to care, much more deeply, about the fate of the earth than before.  
  
_But I'm not alive until you call_

_And I'll bet the odds against it all_  
 

Before Cas turned to something dark and desperate to save the world (and Dean), and before he was called back to heaven for becoming too close to his charge, he used to be friends with Dean. He used to live for the times when, yet again, Dean would call him and ask for help. And despite how irritated and grudgingly Cas outwardly responded (after all, it wasn't like he had all the time in the world to do whatever it was the Winchesters demanded of him), he was inwardly pleased. He liked Dean, and he liked that Dean relied on him, trusted him. They shared a bond so close that they both knew that Cas would never do anything to lose that trust.

Well, that was _then._

Castiel honestly never thought he'd deliberately put his precious charge's trust on the line, but now, in this new turn of events, it was _exactly_ what he was doing. Because he had to save the world, he told himself. But it was really all for one human, and that small, important detail was not lost on anyone. Even the two ignorant parties.

Castiel took one last, regretful look at Dean, completely unaware of his presence, before he turned his back and followed Crowley under the pretense of doing it for the right reasons. After all, he was going to double cross Crowley.

But the feeling of _wrongness_ wouldn't stop weighing down on his heart.

Cas: I always eagerly wait for you to call me, Dean. The very prospect of it makes me feel alive. It's exactly why I can't take it. I'm going to drastic measures to stop this. I'm going to betray you. It's why I can't look you in the eye. Because I know you'll figure it out. I'm dead without you, Dean, and it just can't stay this way.

_Save your advice 'cause I won't hear_

_You might be right but I don't care_  
 

Finally the moment had come, and Castiel had been sucked so deeply into his delusion that there was no turning back. His vessel burst with light as the blinding power of the souls were consumed within him. Dean watched the whole time, his expression revealing a flurry of emotions: Shock, disbelief, denial, and then... betrayal.

The expression on Cas's face was different. Unlike himself. It was the crazed and malicious expression of the leviathans who had taken claim of Castiel's vessel, who had escaped Purgatory and invaded his body like parasites.  
  
Dean watched it all, and couldn't fathom how _Castiel,_ the one angel, the one _being_ in the world that Dean implicitly trusted, could have gone so far off the deep end. In that moment, Castiel had lost the one thing that he had held most dear, and done everything he could to protect. In that moment, Dean's trust in Castiel had shattered.

_Be careful what you risk._  
 

Cas: I'm doing what I think is right, Dean. I know that you don't approve, but I'm not sorry. The truth is, I'm going to do this whether you're right or not, because at least now, we have a shot.  
  
Dean: Cas, you really lied to me? I can't believe you would do this, go this far...I _trusted_ you, Cas.  
 

Cas: I revel in doing this, because... now I don't have to think about what you do to me, because you hate me now and it doesn't matter.  
  
_There's a million reasons why I should give you up_  
 

Dean was hurt and angry. His insides were twisted up in knots, and everything inside him wanted to claw it's way out and destroy everything in sight. He couldn't believe that Cas had betrayed his trust like that, thrown his lot in with Crowley and made everyone suffer the consequences, destroyed innocent people's lives. He'd lied. He'd betrayed them. And Dean's head was still reeling from the shock, whizzing and spinning, and yet frozen, unable to move forward.  
  
Cas had _betrayed_ him. Betrayed them all. He'd taken advantage of his trust. And if there was one thing that Dean Winchester didn't do easily, it was trust. Cas had been given every ounce of trust Dean had. He trusted him even more than _Sam,_ though that was because Sammy was _special_ —Dean had a responsibility to protect him, and that meant that he couldn't always rely on him when the going got tough. But that didn't change the fact that he had trusted and respected Castiel in ways that he never did anyone else. And now, Cas had just ripped all that to pieces.

Dean knew he'd never be able to trust anyone as blindly as that again.  
  
But there was more than one reason for that, and Dean was emotionally incapable of dealing with it.

Dean: I _trusted_ you, Cas! _Why?_ Why would you do that? You know what, there are a _million_ reasons why I should just end you right here and now. I should kill you. You've turned into a monster and you deserve to die.

_But the heart wants what it wants_

_The heart wants what it wants_  
 

Dean didn't think he could _ever_ forgive Cas for what he'd done. Not in a million years....but there was just something about that goddamn good-for-nothing angel that made Dean....And here his thoughts went completely blank. He was just so...so _earnest,_ determined to do the right thing, consequences be damned. Dean supposed...that it may have been a lot like something _he_ would do—not that he would ever go that _far_.

The point was that _nobody,_ no matter _how_ fucking stone-hearted they were, could possibly resist the assbutt. At least, that's what Dean told himself. He was buried so very, very far in the closet.  
  
He'd never admit it to himself, but those intense blue eyes seemed to see straight through Dean to his very core and left him absolutely, completely tongue-tied.

Dean: But I can't do that. And you know exactly why, don't you, Cas? I can't bring myself to do it. You're my weakness. I want you in a way that I can't admit even to myself.  
  
_You got me scattered in pieces_

_Shining like stars and screaming_

_Lighting me up like Venus_  
 

The truth was that Dean couldn't find it in himself to _hate_ Cas, no matter _what_ he'd done. Castiel had come into his life at a time in which he had questioned everything he ever thought about the world and changed it even more. He gave him hope.

At the very moment in time when Dean thought that the world was a bleak and bitter place, Cas had arrived in a flurry of electricity and shattered glass, and gave him hope that good could be just as strong as evil. As it turned out, even the forces of good weren't as righteous as they seemed, but that was never true for Cas, not until now. Cas was good. He _always_ had good intentions. He was powerful and ethereal; awe-inspiring. Cas saw through the walls that people put up. He saw the truth. And he had always, always, _always, unfailingly_ believed in Dean until the bitter end.

Maybe he _did_ deserve another chance.  
  
It was too bad that it didn't matter.

Dean: You're making me fall apart, shatter from the inside out, because you can see past every wall I've put up. You're powerful, majestic, and holy. Even your voice is a deadly weapon. It shatters glass, and I'm left in confusion and awe at your raw power. I thought that maybe you deserve a second chance, because you've saved my ass a hundred thousand times and that's not something that I can easily forget. 

_But then you disappear and make me wait_  
 

Cas was gone. For good. And he wasn't coming back.  
  
And now that he really thought about it, Cas wasn't always there when Dean needed him. He always managed to disappear _somewhere,_ doing _something important_ somewhere _else._

It didn't make the loss hurt any less. Dean clutched the dirty, worn trench coat to his chest. _Damn it, Cas._

Dean: I thought I could trust you again, but then you disappeared, for the second time. What am I supposed to think, Cas?

_And every second's like torture_

_Hell over trip, no more so_

_Finding a way to let go_

_Baby, baby, no I can't escape_  
 

The months slipped into the past like shadows that you never saw. Because as far as Dean was concerned, no time at all had passed since the day Cas died.

He had been living that day over and over and over for months.  
  
He saw it in his nightmares, Cas's honest face overtaken by that evil, remorseless _thing,_ and then his body sinking into the lake until he disappeared without a trace, but for that _stupid_ fucking trench coat he always wore.

No matter what he did, the vivid images were seared into his brain permanently, like a tattoo. The dreams assaulted him, haunted him, woke him up at night. He couldn't seem to escape the memories that tormented him even more than his recollections of hell.  
  
Dean kept the trench coat, cuddling with it at night like a fucking _child,_ and he didn't even care. Somehow, he didn't have the heart to get rid of it, despite his desperation to just forget.

Dean: You died, Cas. In a way, I died, too. I hated you so much for what you did, knowing that I also loved you, and every second I spent with the knowledge that you were gone and never coming back was a torture worse than hell. I'm frantically trying to find a way to get over you, Cas, but I can't escape it. That day, I took your trench coat from the lake, and now I can't bring myself to get rid of it. It's like no matter how hard I try to forget you, I'm equally desperate to find everything that is tied to you in some way. And worst of all, I can't shake the nightmares, the ones where you die horribly, leviathans consuming your very grace.

_The bed's getting cold and you're not here_

_The future that we hold is so unclear_  
 

Dean walked tiredly around toward his bed and sat down. He sighed and hung his head in his hands.

  
Dean: I miss you so much that I ache inside, Cas. I can't see a future without you.  
  
_But I'm not alive until you call_  
 

Dean hadn't heard from Castiel in months. Not that he was counting or anything. There was a hollow pit in his gut at the thought.  
  
When Cas finally came back, it took Dean a long, long time to forgive him. But he did, because it was just who they were.

Dean: Cas, you haven't called or said anything in what feels like _forever._ Where are you? What are you doing? 

_And I'll bet the odds against it all_  
 

Dean was good at making poor choices. Heck, you could say it ran in the damn family. But Dean was also very good at justifying his Winchester-esc decisions thinking that it was for the greater good and not giving a damn what anyone else thought. It was just part of who he was.  
  
Dean: I decided to do something. I put the odds against it all because it _has_ to work. I have to save people. It's what I do best.

_Save your advice 'cause I won't hear_

_You might be right but I don't care_  
 

Cas knew, almost immediately, that Dean was hiding something. Even before he visibly drew into himself and deliberately avoided Castiel's eyes, he knew. Call it intuition, or a tiny flare of his dwindling angel mojo, or maybe even just having known Dean for all these years. All Cas really knew was that something just wasn't right with Dean. And he was trying to hide it.  
  
So Cas tapped into his dwindling reserves of power, trying to sense whatever supernaturally-vested power it was that radiated from Dean...and couldn't believe it. He roughly grabbed Dean's forearm and turned it before Dean could snatch it away. There was deep disappointment resounding in his heart when he saw it, etched clearly and angrily into Dean's arm: The mark of Cain.  
  
Dean saw the look of shock and disappointment on Cas's face and ripped his arm from his grip. This wasn't going to change a damn thing.

Cas: Dean, are you really this stupid?! Do you even _realize_ what you've done to yourself?!

Dean: Forget it, Cas. I did this because there was no other way, and you can't help anymore.  
  
_There's a million reasons why I should give you up_  
 

Cas and Dean weren't exactly _buddy-buddy_ with each other anymore. They rarely saw one another, both busy with saving the world in different places.  
  
One day, Naomi took matters into her own hands and began controlling Cas, making him do things that he would never, _ever_ in his right mind do. For one, he would _never_ kill Dean, who still, despite everything, held an important place in his life. But that's exactly what she began training him to do.  
  
He must have killed hundreds, maybe thousands of “fake Deans” before he was finally brought to the real one, to do exactly what he had to all the others.  
  
It wasn't hard for Naomi to come up with a way to rationalize the action to Castiel. There were probably a million of them. Countless instances of betrayals, lies and manipulations, including the fact that Dean had willingly made himself a killing machine.  
  
But something still held him back, though he had surrendered everything else and even his own free will to Naomi to do with as she pleased. Though he knew that there were too many reasons he should go through with it.

Cas: Dean, you taught me what's most important. You taught me to rely on others. And now, look what you've gotten yourself into _._  
 

Dean: Cas, you don't want to do this, you know you don't. We're family, and... I need you. I love you. But I can't seem to get it out of my throat.

_But the heart wants what it wants_

_The heart wants what it wants_

_The heart wants what it wants_

_The heart wants what it wants_  
  
Yet nothing could wipe away the many moments they'd had together, the depth of their pain and their perseverance, shared between them as they journeyed in their quests for good. For the bond and the trust that they shared was unbreakable, even by each other.  
  
It was something they spoke of often, though never out loud. It was in everything they never said.

The knife clattered to the floor.

Cas: Like it even matters what I _should_ do, Dean. I can't let go. And you have no idea.

_This is a modern fairy tale_  
 

Dean still remembered the day that Cas had stepped into that old barn with his amped-up mojo and the sparks of his power whizzing and zinging from him with every step he took.

Dean: You know, it was kind of ethereal, the way you stepped in that day we first met.  
  
_No happy ending_  
 

It's weird how much everything's changed since then.  
  
Nothing ever _stays_ okay. It's all gotta get fucked up somehow. Because Dean Winchester is awesome at making stupid decisions. It's why he is what he is now. This time, it wasn't some yellow-eyed demon's fault, and it wasn't his closest angel buddy betraying his trust, and it wasn't _somebody else's_ fault. It was his.  
  
Dean Winchester died. And he woke up in his own skin, as a demon.

Dean: Well, you were right, Cas. I fucked up. Ended up turning demon. Happy?  
  
_No wind in our sails_  
 

Cas lost it when Sam told him over the phone.  
  
The only thing keeping him together anymore was his mission. In that way, he was kind of like Dean.

Cas: How the _fuck_ is this supposed to make me _happy,_ Dean?!

_But I can't imagine a life without_  
 

Neither of them could imagine what their life would be like without the other.  
  
Even Dean remembered how abandoned he felt sometimes when Cas had turned and left him to figure out things by himself after having their usual “lover's spats,” as Sam and Bobby relentlessly called it whenever Cas and Dean had fought over something back in the day.

Dean: You have no idea how much it hurt when you turned your back on me, Cas.  
  
_Breathless moments_

_Breaking me down, down, down, down_  
 

Dean couldn't deny the fact that Cas had been there at his darkest hours, during the times when he was not himself. He realized that through thick and thin, he still trusted Cas with more than he'd be willing to admit.  
  
It was part of what he thought about after he'd been cured from being a demon. He'd had a lot to think about. Like remember all the unforgivable things he'd done when he wasn't...well, himself.

Dean: I don't want you constantly trying to save me from the shit I get myself into, Cas. But I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. I have to protect Sammy, and I'd give up anything for him. But I trust you. I need that trust because I know that Sammy would do the same for me, but I can lie to Sam, and you see through everything I am. I can't let Sam give everything up for me. I know how my path ends, and he's gonna have to live without me one day. I trust that you have the strength to do it. To end me.

_The bed's getting cold and you're not here_

_The future that we hold is so unclear_  
 

Dean spent hours alone, thinking, (or trying not to think), remembering, (and trying not to remember), all of the shit he'd done, what he had been as a demon. He couldn't do this. He had to focus on something, _anything_ else. So he hunted.  
  
And he still felt alone, not because he'd been abandoned, but this time it was because he realized just how much he couldn't take back. He didn't deserve it, but he wanted to try and help the few people he could before fate inevitably reared its ugly head and came back to take him for good.

Dean: I feel so lonely, Cas. I got this shit I can't escape from, and not you or anybody else can get me out this time.  
  
_But I'm not alive until you call_

_And I'll bet the odds against it all_  
 

Though Dean was under no illusions that he'd have been able to pull through the demon crap on his own, he knew didn't deserve it. He was eternally grateful, no pun intended. After he was cured and the blackness of his broken soul left his eyes, he realized that he had his life back. And it was due to the two people who meant the most to him in his life. And hopefully, that would never change.

Dean: I was dead until you came, Cas. You and Sam, you're family.  
  
Cas: Of course. I was ready to do anything to save you, Dean.  
  
_Save your advice 'cause I won't hear_

_You might be right but I don't care_

_There's a million reasons why I should give you up_  
 

But Dean wasn't talking to Castiel. He wasn't even talking to _Sam._ Dean wasn't talking period because he just didn't do this emotion shit.  
  
That's what he sold himself, anyway, though he still hurt, _emotionally._  
  
He was so broken. Unfixable.  
  
If he talked, Cas would lie to him. He'd tell him that he was worth it and that he could pull through and he'd _mean_ it, every beautiful lie that Dean didn't deserve, and somehow, that'd just make it worse.  
  
Because even if by a thin strand of luck he _could_ pull through, he would never deserve the chance. The blood on his hands screamed _volumes_ of proof. It was more than enough reason to give him up. Why did anyone even give a fucking _fuck_ about him? Because they really shouldn't. There was no excuse for what he'd done.  
  
But he was a Winchester. And he wanted to do good before he was gone.

Dean: Save it, Cas. There's nothing anybody can do because it's not just that I _can't_ be saved; I don't even _deserve_ it. I'm not worth it and I don't care if you think otherwise. It's why I can't _say_ anything to you, do you _realize_ that?

_But the heart wants what it wants_

_The heart wants what it wants_

_The heart wants what it wants, baby_

_It wants what it wants_  
 

Eventually, Dean would talk to Castiel because after all they'd been through, he trusted him. And Cas gave him the hope he needed to push forward.  
  
It was also because he gained reassurance just by staring into the eyes that spoke the truth that both were incapable of saying.  
  
I love you, and I would do anything for you, even if it meant that I had to give up my own life. We were meant to be. It was their promise to each other, spoken in everything they never said.

Cas: You continue to put yourself down, Dean. Why? Why don't you think you deserve to be saved? If there's a chance, you should always take it, because you _do_ deserve it, Dean, whatever you may think.

Dean: That's why I can't give you up, Cas.


End file.
